


Star: A Parentlock Tale

by JohnHamishHolmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, PTSD, Parentlock, familylock, hamish is an actor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnHamishHolmes/pseuds/JohnHamishHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamish is an child actor on West End, but is he the real star?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, since my other parentlock got such a great response, I'm back. I'm trying something a bit different. Hamish is usually really smart & science-y, but I wantd to see if he took after some of Sherlock's other skills instead. I was watching Matilda the Musical and I saw a kid that loked exactly how I imagine Hamish and so it was settled.  
> I own nothing and take no credit for this

Sherlock and John watched their son dancing along the street. "I can't believe we're letting him do this." said Sherlock  
John just laughed.  
They never imagined that their son would get Sherlock's acting abilities rather than his intelligence. But there they were, on their way to a West End audition for their eight year old boy.  
"What if he doesn't get in? He'll be devastated." Sherlock whispered.  
"I'm hoping for the best." John replied, "They take lots of children. They have three separate casts, each with a good sized company. And Hamish is good. Really good."  
There was no doubt, Hamish was incredible. He always had the main role in his school play, even though in the past, an older student held it. He was above and beyond the other kids in his choir and he was one of the best dancers in his class.  
And there he was right now, dancing down the street, singing the songs from the show he was trying out for. "And when I grow uppppppppp I will eat sweets every day!" he sang out. That was one o his favorite lines.  
"Better settle down, Hai. You don't want to tire out before your audition" John called.  
Hamish stopped and waited for his parents. "I'm sorry. I'm just so so so excited."  
He grabbed on to Sherlock's hand. Even though John was more kind and caring, Hamish seemed to favor his father. If given the choice between them, he would always go with Sherlock.  
It had bothered John, but he was used to it now. And he was glad that Sherlock and Hamish had bonded so well. This was much better than his husband pushing Hamish away constantly.

They got to the theater. Hamish looked around. They had taken him to the West End several time, but never to the Cambridge Theater. It was beautiful.  
Someone directed them to the audition. There were loads of other children there.  
"I really hope they don't go alphabetically" John joked. "Then we'll be here until the end"  
"Maybe I should change my name to Holmes-Watson. Then father's name would be first." Hamish hopped onto Sherlock's lap.  
"We all are Watson-Holmes. That's my last name and daddy's last name and your last name." said Sherlock, knowing that Hamish's comment irked John a bit.  
"But you were Holmes before, right?" asked Hamish, clearly not ready to give up on this topic.  
"Yes, I was Holmes before, but I like being Watson-Holmes better."  
"Me too." said John.  
"Me three" said Hamish, as the director came out to call more children in.  
"...Ella Willis, Thomas Morgan, Hamish-Watson-Holmes, Maria Kent..."  
Hamish got up. "Good luck Hai!" said Sherlock  
"Break a leg" said John giving him a hug and a kiss.  
"Bye" he called back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably mention that the show he is trying out for is Matilda the Musical, since I don't think it is actually written anywhere in the story


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I don' give too big a summary because *River Song voice* Spoilers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2. Woop.  
> I still own nothing and no one.

Hamish was getting ready for another rehearsal. There was only one day left until the show opened with the new cast and Hamish was terribly excited.  
"I'm making my West End Debut tomorrow Daddy! That's so soon!" he shouted when John had come in from work one afternoon  
"I know, Hai. Have you been bugging your father about this all day?"  
"Maybe" Hamish said with a cheeky grin.

"John! You're finally home! Lestrade called. Case. Downtown." Sherlock came running out of the bedroom.  
"You go. I'll meet you after I get Hamish to the theater."  
"Mrs. Hudson is on it. You need to come. It involves soldiers and your knowledge is going to be vital."  
John nodded. "Okay, Hai? Are you all ready to go?"  
Hamish nodded. "Father and I got ready earlier." He gave Sherlock a hug. He knelt down in front of him.  
"Hamish. Daddy and I have to go out and help Uncle Greg on a case. You are going with Nan to your practice. We might not be back when you get home, but we'll be here in the morning, alright?"  
"It's not going to be like the time you got hurt, is it?" Hamish asked. A few weeks ago, Sherlock had come home with scrapes all over his face. Although he was fine the next morning, Hamish had been terrified.  
"I promise I won't get hurt. Now we need to go. Give your Daddy a hug." Hamish hugged John.  
They bolted out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I've been working on loads of stuff. YOU SHOULD LOOK AT IT!

Sherlock knew Hamish wasn't asleep. He could tell that right away. He also knew that he would have to do some explaining to him.  
It wasn't every day that he came in carrying a shaking, crying mess of John in his arms.  
The case involving the soldiers gave him a bad flashback. He had fallen to the ground.  
Shaking, shouting, convulsing.  
It was an attack to a degree Sherlock had never seen before.  
They'd calmed John down and Lestrade drove them home. John was still in bad shape.  
"Father! Uncle Greg! Daddy's okay?"  
"He's had a rough night. He needs rest." said Sherlock.  
"What happened? Is he hurt?" Hamish reached out to his dad.  
"Don't touch him!" Sherlock shouted, alarming the young boy."He's just had a flashback to the war. I'm going to get him into bed and we'll have a talk. Okay?"

Lestrade waited with Hamish. Hamish only cared about his dad. "I want to see him. I don't know if he's alright" 

Sherlock came back a few minutes later.  
"How's he doing?" asked Lestrade in a hushed tone.  
"In a lot of pain. Maybe you could stay with him until he falls asleep. Just a reassurance" Sherlock replied.

He sat down on the couch, motioning for Hamish to join him.  
"Tell me what you already know about Daddy and the war." he said.  
Hamish thought for a moment. "He was a soldier and a doctor. He went to help people who got shot in the war."  
"Yes. And then?" Hamish knew about most of what happened in his parent's lives.  
"He got shot in the shoulder and he fell and broke his leg. And then he got sick from dirt getting in his wound and had to come home."  
"Yes. But he got sick from more than just the infection. He had, or rather, has something called PTSD. That stands for post traumatic stress disorder."  
Hamish thought about those words.  
Sherlock tried to explain it. "That means that when something really scary happens, like getting shot, your brain is still remembers it really clearly and sometimes things remind you of it and it feels real."

"Daddy told me he used to get really scared, but after he met you, he didn't. doesn't that mean you cured it?" Hamish still looked frightened.  
Sherlock pulled his son onto his lap.   
"Not entirely. When me and Daddy run around London chasing the bad guys, that helps him. Sort of like the pill you take to help keep you calm in school."  
"But even when I take my pill, if something really exciting happens, I still lose my focus!" Hamish replied.  
"Exactly" said Sherlock, "Just like your pill works most of the time, the excitement works most of the time. But sometimes, he still gets a flashback and has a panic attack."  
Hamish nodded in understanding.  
"Now, I'm sure Daddy would like a quick goodnight kiss and then it's off to bed."

Sherlock led Hamish into the bedroom.  
John was half-sitting half-lying on the bed. Lestrade stood next to him.  
"How are you feeling?" asked Sherlock.  
'Painkillers are starting to work. Don't think I'll sleep much though." replied John, tiredly.  
Hamish climbed up onto the bed.  
" 'Mish! You excited for your opening performance tomorrow?" John gave him a kiss on the top of the head.  
"Yeah! I can't wait."  
"Well, maybe Uncle Greg can tuck you into bed. You need all your energy for the show" Sherlock also gave him a kiss.  
"Goodnight Hamish!" his dads called out together as he left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still debatable whether John had PTSD or not, but for this purpose, he does.


	4. Chapter 4

"Why father? Why must I go with Uncle My?" Hamish said dramatically.  
Sherlock gave his son a look. "I know Uncle My is stuffy and dull, but he'll make sure you get to your rehearsal alright. I need to go give some information to Uncle Greg and Daddy needs to rest."  
Hamish sighed. "Okay. But you'll both be there for the show?"  
"Like we said, 'Mish. Daddy and I will be there for the opening night and everyone else is coming on your second show."

Hamish looked over at John, who was lying on the couch, sleeping lightly.As he had predicted, he hadn't slept well the previous night and was completely knackered.  
"Will he be well enough to come to my performance?" he asked. John stirred a bit and knocked over his cane with his arm. It had been propped up on the side of the couch.  
Hamish wasn't familiar with the walking stick. It made him uncomfortable.  
"Go pick up his cane please, Hamish." said Sherlock. "And yes. He just needs some time and he'll be fine."

Hamish went over to the couch and picked up the skinny metal object. He frowned.   
The only people he had ever seen with canes were old and weak. His Daddy was NOT an old man and he was stronger than anyone else.

Mycroft's car pulled up a few minutes later. He came in to pick up Hamish and drive him to the theater.  
"See you later. Break a leg" said Sherlock, who had been chastised by his son for not using the proper theater expression for good luck.  
"Break a leg, Hamish" said John, who'd woken up.  
"Bye Father! Bye Daddy! Fell better fast, 'kay Daddy?"  
John smiled.

"How are you honestly feeling?" said Sherlock, coming over. "You've never had an attack that bad. Not even right after you returned."  
John sat up, grunting. "Shoulder's feeling not-too-bad. Leg's killing me though. Good thing the show is mostly sitting down."  
Sherlock picked the cane off the floor.  
"He hates that you have this." he said, quietly. He twirled the cane around in his hands.  
It felt cold and stiff. The complete opposite of it's owner.

John took the cane from Sherlock and slowly stood up.  
"It'll go away soon. It always does. Although a cab chase through London wouldn't go amiss right now." he said with a smirk.  
"Maybe seeing your son in a professional play will do it." Sherlock offered his arm for John to use to pull himself up.  
Surprisingly, he accepted it.  
"Just get rid of this as soon as you can. It makes Hamish uncomfortable."  
John limped over to the kitchen for tea.  
"I could have got that for you" Sherlock protested.  
"No. I was getting pretty stiff sitting there."

John yawned as he picked up his mug.  
"You should lie down for a bit. Maybe have a nap. It's going to be a long night."   
"No, I'll be fine. Don't we have to see Lestrade?"  
"He's coming here. Now go get some rest."  
John sighed. "Okay. But wake me when he gets here."  
He limped slowly back to his bed. Sherlock followed.  
After John settled into the bed, Sherlock crawled in and snuggled up beside him.  
"Have a good nap, John." he whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this will be the final installment, but I might add an epilogue.  
> Also, if you'd like to see the clips of the show that I mentioned, the first one is here  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u4zVYd4ir9E (You have to skip ahead to about 0:40
> 
> The second one is here  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Kn-fEuRB0Q  
> These are the best I could find. It's much better in person.
> 
> ALSO! I realized that this could be seen as a sequel to "Hamish and the Scar" (Which I wrote) if you want to look at it that way.

Sherlock walked slowly beside John as he limped back into the theater after the interval.  
"I can't believe that is our son. It's so brilliant." said Sherlock. "He's so brilliant."  
"I can't wait to here his solo in the second act." John replied.  
He stumbled a bit over some uneven ground. Sherlock reached out to steady him.  
"Fine." said John, catching himself before he could trip and fall.

They got to the set of steps to get down to their spot. Sherlock bounded down quickly. John made his way slowly, to avoid another stumble.

When the show began again, Sherlock grabbed John's hand. It was amazing watching their son up there, singing, dancing, having the time of his life.  
Sherlock grabbed John's hand when Hamish's solo began.  
He sat on a swing and looked more adorable than ever.  
"He's perfect" whispered John.  
"I know" Sherlock replied.  
They didn't just mean his singing was in tune.

Sherlock's favorite song came along not long after.  
"We are revolting children, living in revolting time! We sing revolting songs! Using revolting rhymes!"  
Sherlock was mouthing the words. Three months of hearing Hamish practicing allowed him and John to learn the lyrics to every song in the show.

After the show ended, Sherlock and John were in tears.  
They calmed down and went backstage to meet Hamish. "Daddy! Father!" he rushed over to hug them, still in his costume and makeup. "Hamish, you were brilliant!" said Sherlock, picking him up and spinning him around. "I loved it, 'Mish. You were incredible. You looked like a star!" Hamish let go of Sherlock and jumped onto John, knocking his cane out of his hand, causing him to stumble backwards a bit. "Careful, Hamish" Sherlock scolded. After Hamish climbed down, apologized, and returned John's cane to him, he went back into the dressing room to change. Sherlock and John chatted with people for a few minutes when Sherlock noticed John's hand grip tighter onto the handle of his cane and leaning more towards one leg. They stepped aside from the group. "Are you alright?" John shifted his weight. "Fine. Just a bit sore and tired." "Would you like me to find you a chair?" asked Sherlock "I suppose. Hamish will still be a while." Sherlock walked along the hallways. He found a chair outside one of the dressing rooms

He heard Hamish's voice coming from inside the nearest room.  
"...hasn't got a broken leg"  
'Possibly talking about John' Sherlock thought to himself.  
He heard another kid, one of Hamish's best friends pipe up.  
"But he's got a walking stick. I just assumed he did."  
"No" said Hamish "He's got a disease"  
Based on the volume of Hamish's voice, Sherlock could tell that he was looking down as he spoke.  
After a chorus of "Shouldn't he see a doctor" and "He's sick?!" Hamish began telling the story.  
"He's not sick. He's not weak, either. My daddy was a soldier and a doctor in the war. He saved probably a hundred lives every week. He got shot one day and was sent home. Sometimes, he remembers the people he couldn't save and it hurts him."  
The usually chatty group of children was silent. Sherlock could barely believe what his son was saying.  
"He's a hero. He even has a couple medals. He deserves a million medals. He deserves applause like we got tonight." He heard the other kids nodding and murmuring in agreement. "We might be the ones on stage, but he's the real kind of star." said Hamish quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that parents or other people might not be allowed backstage, but the plot wouldn't have worked without it.  
> I hope you enjoyed the cuteness.  
> Does it need a epilogue? Let me know.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the final chapter. I didn't really plan it out all that much and I'm quite sure you'll be able to tell.

It was time to get Hamish to the theater to prepare for his second show. The novelty still hadn't worn off and the excitement he felt two days previous was still going strong.  
"Tonight Nan and Uncle Greg and Auntie Molly and Uncle My are all coming to my show!" he shouted as soon as he got up.

"That's right, 'Mish" said Sherlock. "But you need to be tiny bit quieter. Daddy is still asleep."   
The heard floorboards creaking upstairs. "Well, I guess that's not true anymore."  
A few moments later, John came down the stairs, without his cane in hand.

"Daddy!" Hamish shouted again. "You're all better from your...." he thought for a minute "PSTT"  
"PTSD, Hamish. And please use your normal voice, not your stage voice" Sherlock calmly replied.

John gave Hamish a hug. "Yeah. I'm all better for now."

 

That night, after the show had finished, and all the fuss about Hamish by his guests had been completed, they were back in their home.   
Hamish yawned.   
"I think it is time to get ready for bed, 'Mish." said Sherlock. "I can come help you."  
Hamish shook his head. "I want Daddy"

So John smiled and helped Hamish with his washing up and tucked him into bed.  
Sherlock came in to give him a kiss goodnight a few minutes later.

"Goodnight, my little star." said Sherlock  
Hamish made a sleepy nosie. "That should be Daddy's name"

End

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if I screwed up anything. I have acting experience, but nothing to this caliber, so if I got something about West End wrong, tell me.


End file.
